Conspiracy Theory
by Luna Darkside
Summary: So apparently, Shinichi is married to Kid. Unsurprisingly, he's the last to know. /ShinKai & KaiShin, oneshot, complete/


_If you've read my fics _Denial, Bring Your Husband to Work Day, _and _The Worst Idea in the Entire World_, well, then… you've pretty much read this one too. It's kind of a combination of the three. Because I have no ideas, and I just wanted to get something posted while I slave away on a longer fic I've been working on._

_Warnings include shounen-ai, grammar mistakes / general errors, married people, etc. This is set when the main cast (Shinichi, Kaito, Aoko, Hakuba, etc.) are all about twenty-six or so._

_Well... hope you enjoy? - Luna_

**Conspiracy Theory**

What the _hell_.

Shinichi stared blankly at the woman in front of him. She beamed brightly (albeit a little uncomfortably), doing everything short of shoving the microphone in her hand down his throat. The camera crew behind her waited with similarly encouraging expressions, angling their camera lenses even more in his direction, probably waiting for him to breathe again.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Shinichi was aware that he had been gawking at her for nearly three minutes straight, and that this long of a dead silence was probably not good for ratings, but it was just – completely _impossible _to comprehend what she was saying.

"What… did you just… say…?" he managed faintly, and the reporter finally stopped looking like a perky children's show host in favor of donning a vaguely alarmed expression. She batted her heavily mascaraed eyelashes with some semblance of concern, tilting her head to one side.

"Kudou-san, are you all right? You've gone completely white."

Swallowing dryly, Shinichi croaked, "Yes, I'm quite all right. Just – what did you say?" Maybe it had been momentary insanity, on his part. Maybe he'd just been single for so long that he was starting to hallucinate reporters asking him –

"Oh!" The woman brightened. The cameras glinted. "We at Nippon TV just wanted to know how your husband is doing! Do you have a response?"

Coughing (_so it hadn't been a hallucination?!_), Shinichi got out, "I." He cleared his throat, which had entered into a painful drought. "I, um. Don't have a – husband?" It wasn't supposed to sound like a question, but unfortunately, Shinichi was unable to keep his voice from rising in pitch as his horror grew.

Penciled eyebrows rising up her forehead, the reporter peered at him as if he were an unruly puppy she was trying to housetrain. "Of course you do," she insisted, and just as Shinichi was about to inform her that if he had a husband, _he'd probably know_, she asked, carefully enunciating, "How is your husband, the Kaitou Kid?"

The words echoed in Shinichi's head. _Husband… husband… Kaitou… Kaitou… Kid… Kid…_

Trying his damndest not to swallow his tongue (a rather impressive feat, considering how badly Shinichi was trying to form words), Shinichi finally managed to get out a strangled, "N-No comment."

And then he sprinted for seven blocks straight before taking shelter at the police station, because apparently chirpy reporters from Nippon TV were secretly Olympic athletes who knew how to run in high heels and could not be outstripped by poor, single – emphasize on the _single_ – detectives.

* * *

Ducking down next to the fallen body – and grimacing, because the once-handsome CEO in front of him had gotten his fingers and nose cut off, and _that _certainly wasn't doing anything to help the churning mess of coffee and bread currently inhabiting Shinichi's stomach – Shinichi searched the man's pockets and clothing carefully. He found no signs of a struggle, which probably meant that the man had been sedated or drugged somehow.

Straightening, Shinichi glanced around the sparse, minimalistic office (stereotypical of high-powered CEOs, he supposed) until he spotted a red-eyed, wobbly-lipped woman standing off near the doors to the elevator. At a glance, he identified her as Miura Junko, the victim's secretary and the primary discoverer of the body.

Shinichi stepped around an oncoming forensics officer and strode towards Junko, stopping once he had reached her. "Miura Junko-san?" he asked, and she nodded, swiping at the streaked remnants of mascara underneath her eyes.

"Yes, that's me."

"I'm –" he began, but Junko shook her head. At Shinichi's raised eyebrow, she flushed.

"I know who you are. You're Kudou Shinichi," she explained, and Shinichi nodded, pulling out the well-worn white-and-blue notebook that Kid had given him last year for his birthday.

(It had been sitting by his coffee cup when he'd come downstairs on the morning of his birthday, along with a coded note that had eventually deciphered to _Happy birthday, my dear tantei-kun, _and Shinichi had been using it ever since out of a mixture of fond exasperation and amused resignation. What could he say – the stupid thief had sort of grown on him.

Although he was still puzzling over that reporter's weird ideas about them being married, to be honest.)

"Then I don't have to tell you why I'm here," Shinichi said now to Junko, giving her a slanted smile. He lowered his voice to something a little less austere. "How about we step away from the scene and talk somewhere quiet?"

For a moment, Junko stared openly at him, glossed mouth halfway open, before her expression turned dark in a way that spelled death, torture, etc. Shinichi had a lot of experience with those sorts of expressions. "What are you trying to do, Kudou-san?" she growled, and was that a reprimand, because it certainly sounded like it…?

Shinichi barely had time to blink and get out a startled _what _before Junko steamrolled on. "Don't you _dare _think for a minute that I don't know what you're trying to do!" she half-screamed, and by now they were beginning to attract attention from the police officers. Shinichi withered under the scrutiny.

"I may have been sleeping with my boss," Junko thundered on, and Shinichi's eyebrows shot up, "and he may have been married, and his wife may have found out and threatened to kill him, but _who do you think I am_?"

"Um," Shinichi stammered, meekly, and Junko nearly sliced off his toes as she took a threatening step forward, fairly radiating fury. Never had a woman with smudged eyeliner and a pencil skirt terrified him more, and he had been present when Ran had gotten rejected for that job interview that one time.

"I," she shouted, "have my pride, and I _will not _'step away from the scene' with the_ man who is married to Kaitou Kid_!"

She was still blathering on, something about how unspeakably _ungrateful_ Shinichi was and how _atrocious _his behavior was for someone married to such an _amazing_ man, but Shinichi's brain had gotten frozen on "married to Kaitou Kid" and no amount of lectures was going to unfreeze him. Ever.

He was about to drop his notebook when a hand descended on his shoulder and he whirled to find Satou standing behind him, mouth pressed into a grim line.

"There, there, Miura-san," she cut in above Junko's increasingly loud speech on reasons why cheating on anyone who wore a cape was utter trash. "I'm sure you misunderstood Kudou-kun's intentions. He would _never_," and at this point she turned and shot a glare of _pure death _at Shinichi, "_ever _cheat on Kid, his _husband_, would he?"

Shinichi managed a faint chirping sound.

"_Right_," Satou ground out before turning back to Junko and pasting on a smile. "So, what was that you were saying about your affair and Akashima's wife?"

As Junko went white, stuttered, and flailed for words, Shinichi clutched at his heart, surprised to find it still in working order.

It had to be a conspiracy theory. It _had to be._

* * *

"It was the _weirdest _thing," Shinichi told Ran, rubbing at his temple. Across the table, Ran remained quiet, taking a bite of her oversized parfait. "I mean, I didn't even – I hadn't been trying to pick her up, even. I just suggested we step away from where her employer had been brutally murdered – by his wife, nonetheless – and she totally flipped out and tried to lecture me on the sins of adultery. And then Officer Satou actually joined in." He shrugged helplessly, slumping in his seat.

Ran made a noncommittal humming sound in the back of her throat, setting down her spoon. "I understand. That must've been horrible."

"Wasn't it?" Relief bloomed in Shinichi's chest. Before talking to her, he'd been absolutely terrified that she'd have some kind of weird reaction –

"But Shinichi," Ran continued, serenely collecting a spoonful of strawberries and ice cream, "she was right."

Shinichi gaped.

"You shouldn't do anything questionable when you're this early on in your marriage," she reproved gently, eyeing him in a motherly _I know what's best for you, my child, so please listen_. To Shinichi's escalating horror, she appeared to be entirely serious. "It'd be terrible if you accidentally broke Kid's trust. I'm sure you didn't mean for that," she added, ever the diplomat, "but just think how you'd feel if Kid asked some random secretary to step outside with him while you weren't there."

For a moment, Shinichi actually pictured Kid flirting with Junko – and felt a disturbing pang of discomfort, which he quickly dismissed as heartburn – before spluttering indignantly, "But we're not – Kid's not – we're not married! Kid's not my husband!"

Regarding him somberly, Ran shook her head, sighed, and ate her spoonful of parfait in a manner that could only be described as disapproving. Shinichi hadn't even known it was possible to eat a parfait disapprovingly until now.

Once she was done, she reached across the table to touch his hand. "Shinichi, don't say that. How do you think Kid would feel if he heard you denouncing your love, your relationship? I doubt he'd be happy. Do you want Kid to be sad?"

"Uh…" Shinichi blinked. "No?"

"I think you know what I'm trying to say," Ran smiled, soothingly, and went back to her parfait.

Shinichi stared down at the tabletop, wondering how they'd managed to brainwash even Ran.

And also if he'd just received free marriage counseling from his currently single childhood friend.

* * *

"Tell your stupid husband that he can go die!"

That, to be honest, had not been the first thing Shinichi had expected to hear while walking into Aoko and Hakuba's housewarming party.

Peering out from around the large potted plant that was seemed to be trying to consume his face with its overgrown branches (how long had it been skulking in the back corner of the florist's, Shinichi wondered), Shinichi blinked over at Aoko, who was scowling fiercely at him. "Um, hello, Hakuba-san?"

Though she flushed at being addressed by her new name, Aoko didn't stop glaring at him. "Do you know what your husband did to mine?" she snapped, advancing on him to rip the poor plant from Shinichi's hands and deposit it on the kitchen table.

It was a little gross how quickly Shinichi's brain went from _my husband? _to _oh right, Kid_ without stalling, combusting, or otherwise dying. He considered it a sign that he was spending too much time with brainwashed people.

"I… do not know what Kid did to your husband," he said, carefully. "I am going to say it has something to do with the heist I had to miss because I was sick."

"_Correct_," Aoko growled in what Shinichi recognized as her _I am going to murder someone with several household appliances _voice, "For your information, he _dyed Saguru's hair pink_."

When Shinichi remained unmoved, she tacked on, "Hot pink. Magenta. Cerise."

Shinichi blinked. "Those are all different shades, you know."

"Thank you for your unwavering support, Kid-san," Aoko half-shouted, throwing up her hands, and Shinichi froze.

"What did you just call me?"

"Kid-san," Aoko repeated, stalking off towards the kitchen to – Shinichi stiffened – take out a knife and set to work chopping tomatoes, probably to make a salad. "Since we don't know his actual name, we're just going to say that his first name is 'Kaitou' and his last name is 'Kid.' Which means –" she pointed the knife at Shinichi, who flinched, because the knife was covered in red juice that was faintly reminiscent of blood, and he really didn't need that imagery, "– that you would be Kid-san. Since you're married." She halved a tomato with excessive viciousness. "I don't know what you see in that stupid thief."

"Oh." Shinichi felt vaguely faint. "Um."

It was at this moment that Hakuba emerged from the bathroom, hair a violent shade of fuchsia, and for a heart-stopping moment, Shinichi actually kind of wished he _was _married to Kid, because Hakuba just looked so ridiculous, but then he caught himself.

As Hakuba demanded to know if someone named "Kuroba-kun" was coming and Aoko responded in the negative (apparently he had somehow gotten sick?), Shinichi rubbed at his sinuses hard. He was definitely spending too much time with brainwashed people.

* * *

Groaning, Shinichi let out a heavy exhale. He cast a sad look at the stack of case files sitting on the edge of his desk. "Look, Mom, I don't particularly care if you and Dad want to come out to Beika or not. I'm fine either way."

Across the overseas connection, Yukiko's screech of disapproval crackled tinnily. "I can't believe my own son would say that!" she wailed, and Shinichi fairly sobbed along with her.

"Mom, please –"

"My own _son_!" she lamented. Shinichi could only imagine the attention she was drawing to them, considering he had deduced from the background noise that she and Yuusaku were at a café in Paris. "My child, whom I raised myself –"

"I don't know about you _raising _me, but sure. Okay. Fine. Please, please come to Beika. I can't wait for you."

The squeal that followed his sentence had Shinichi flinching visibly. "Really? Yuusaku, Shin-chan wants us to go to Beika to visit! Please, please can we go?" Yukiko didn't wait for his response before she was half-singing, "Oh, we're finally going to be able to meet our darling Shin-chan's husband!"

Shinichi, who had been about to reach for a case file, promptly choked and knocked the whole thing over. He should've figured that his own mother would somehow get entangled in the whole married-to-Kid thing, even from a continent away. "What? Mom, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Shin-chan," Yukiko giggled, schoolgirlish, and Shinichi very much wanted to hang up on her. "You got married to Kid while we were in Scotland! Don't you dare believe that we didn't hear about it. Oh, you should've seen Yuusaku! He was so proud that you found Toichi-kun's son and married him!"

Eyebrows jumping up his forehead (_Toichi-kun_?), Shinichi began, "Wait, _what_? Who's –"

"Anyway!" Yukiko pressed on cheerfully, completely ignoring Shinichi's sputters of confusion, "we'll be back within the month! Be sure you bring your husband so we can thoroughly interrogate him, okay? Bye, Shin-chan!"

The line went dead. Shinichi, inexplicably, wanted to cry.

* * *

After so many years of chasing each other, Shinichi and Kid had developed the habit of meeting up on the rooftops of the heist buildings, after the police had cleared out and the TV stations had left for the night. They'd talk, about everything from Shinichi's latest case to Kid's reasons for being Kid (though that organization had long since been dismantled), and Shinichi always looked forward to those conversations, though he'd never admit it.

Tonight was no exception.

Shinichi was sprawling across the cold gravel of the rooftop, shivering as he looked up at the night sky, when something soft landed on top of him. It took him a second to recognize the pale white fabric as Kid's cape.

He snapped into an upright position, glaring over at the phantom thief. "When did you get here?"

Kid grinned, unhelpfully, as he plopped down beside Shinichi. "I don't know," he sang, and Shinichi very much wanted to throttle him. He didn't, though, because he needed answers that he doubted anyone else besides Kid could give, and also because murder was bad. And, okay, fine, because he didn't really hate Kid all that much.

"Here," he grunted, thrusting the cape at Kid, and Kid shook his head as he tucked his gloved hands underneath his neck.

"You look cold, tantei-kun," he hummed, angling his face to meet Shinichi's incredulous gaze. "And what kind of husband would I be if I didn't offer you my cape at the very least?"

"That's _exactly _what I want to talk about!" Shinichi half-shouted, Kid's cape pooling in a heap of fabric atop his thighs. His voice was eaten up by the late-night traffic in the streets below, but from Kid's widening eyes, he hadn't missed it. "What with all the husband stuff? I don't understand what's going on! Everyone says we're _married_! Which is completely _ridiculous_, I'm sure you know, but everyone seems to think _I'm _the crazy one for not getting what's going on!" He knew he was rambling, but Kid's expression was so unreadable that he couldn't stop. "A news reporter asked me how my _husband _was! I got told off by a secretary because she thought I was hitting on her! Ran gave me _marriage counseling_! Aoko called me 'Kid-san' because apparently that's my name now that we're married! My parents want to _meet _you to see if you're a good son-in-law!"

He finally stopped, winded, and stared at Kid. Kid's lips were parted, and his (gorgeous) indigo eyes were stunned behind his monocle. "Isn't it insane? Us being married?"

Kid shut his mouth, swallowed, opened his mouth, then shut it again. It was rather like watching a fish out of water. Shinichi raised his eyebrows, waiting for his reaction.

He was expecting a strangled laugh of terror or some other sound of surprise. He was not expecting a strained, "Wait… aren't we, though?"

It was Shinichi's turn to lapse into gasping goldfish mode as all activity in his brain ceased.

He barely managed a stammered, "_What_?" before Kid was ranting, "Don't you remember the Tanzanite King heist, like, a month ago?" Shinichi did – the Tanzanite King had been a huge, oversized tanzanite set on a white-gold band – but before he could say as much, Kid was forging on.

"And when I came to return the jewel after I checked it, you were waiting for me, right? Because I left that note," Kid rambled, and was that _panic _in his eyes? "And then I proposed and we got married! I was like, 'Do you want to be with me for the rest of your life?' and you were like, 'I do'!"

Hazily, Shinichi seemed to recall that Kid had actually asked, "Don't you want to keep chasing me? Because you'll be doing it forever, you know," and he had replied with, "Of course I do, you stupid thief," but he could more or less see where Kid was going with this.

"So then I put the ring on your left ring finger and then hit the lights and left. I would've taken you with me for our honeymoon, but you kept moving around in the dark and I couldn't find you," Kid babbled, and Shinichi gawped.

"This – this whole time that I've been thinking – wait, but there's no – you're –" Shinichi was tripping over words, throwing out clauses and fragments madly, before he finally managed, "I don't even know your _name_!"

"Kuroba Kaito," Kid replied immediately, and there was an all too tangible edge of desperation in his voice. One that seemed so incredibly out of character for him that Shinichi stopped to examine him.

And once Shinichi looked at him, _actually _looked at him, he understood instantly. Kid – Kaito – had spent the past month believing that he'd had Shinichi just where he'd wanted, believed that they were married, believed that Shinichi returned his love.

Which, Shinichi considered faintly… might not be so far from the truth.

He cleared his throat before speaking, lifting his chin a little condescendingly. "That's ridiculous. There's no way we're _married_." As Kid's face fell, he quickly finished, "Because you haven't kissed me. Yet."

Kid froze, going absolutely still, and Shinichi almost can't stop the flush from spreading down his neck.

"You mean that you'd –" Kid began, and Shinichi shrugged hastily, trying to dispel the sticky, warm feeling suffusing his lungs.

"I mean, everyone already thinks we're married, so, you know. We might as well, um," he got out, attempting to sound indifferent and failing quite spectacularly, but Kid clearly didn't mind, judging from the softness gathering in his eyes as he leaned in a little. Shinichi could count his eyelashes, draw imaginary constellations between the faint freckles on the bridge of Kid's nose.

"You want a kiss, is that it?" Kid murmured, and Shinichi opened his mouth, about to try for a snarky comment, but then Kid's lips were against his, unyielding but heartrendingly gentle. Kid's hands lifted to cage Shinichi's face, the fabric of his gloves rough to Shinichi's skin, and he mumbled a soft sigh into the kiss.

Kid – Kaito, that was his name, _Kaito_, pulled back, and Shinichi wanted so desperately to get lost in those indigo eyes. He reached up, almost dreamlike, to remove the monocle. It was warm to the touch, most likely from being on Kaito's face for so long.

"Kaito," he whispered, almost reverently, and Kaito's entire face lit up. He smothered Shinichi in another kiss, nipping at his bottom lip and licking into his mouth.

It was several minutes later that Shinichi pulled back, panting sharply. "Wait a second," he choked as Kaito nosed distractingly into his collarbone, "wait a second, you're Kuroba Kaito? Doesn't that mean you're Hakuba's friend?"

Instantly going motionless, Kaito pulled back to gape at Shinichi. "You know him?"

"We met at a Sherlock Holmes convention," Shinichi explained, and he didn't miss the way Kaito rolled his eyes. "Shut up. But yes, I know Hakuba. And his wife."

"Aoko?" Kaito choked, and Shinichi nodded.

Looking frazzled, Kaito flapped a hand between them. "Obviously, we're going to want them to know about us, but how the hell are we going to explain the whole 'you're married to Kid who is actually me' thing to them?"

They were silent for a long moment.

"…Want to make out again?" Shinichi offered, eventually.

Kaito stared. "...Sure."

They could deal with all that later, Shinichi decided as he wrapped his arms around Kaito's neck and dragged him forward. They had an entire honeymoon to make up for, after all.

* * *

**I don't know where this came from...? Like I said, this is mostly to stall until I finish a different fic, so yeah.**

**In other news, I've *cringe* posted more KaiShin smut (why do I keep making Kaito top?) to my AO3 (link available on my profile!) so if you're, you know, into that kind of thing, you can go read it. Yeah. *shuffles awkwardly***

**Anyway, if you enjoyed this very cliche and terrible fic, please consider dropping me a review, and I'll see you all soon! - Luna**


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